


peppermint

by wytch-lyghts (flight_on_broken_wings)



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Beau is a bro, Beau/Jester hinted, Caleb is horny, Drunk Sex, Established Relationship, Explicit Consent, Fjord is a sweetheart, M/M, Porn Without Plot, minus the exposition, terms of endearment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:34:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21741535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flight_on_broken_wings/pseuds/wytch-lyghts
Summary: The unrepentant feel-good holiday porn y'all didn't even need to ask for. Just let these boys be happy, please god I beg you.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett & Caleb Widogast, Fjord & Beauregard Lionett, Fjord/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 11
Kudos: 250





	peppermint

Fjord chuckled at the texts when he first read them. His phone nearly vibrated itself off the kitchen table, already sitting precariously on the edge to make room for his laptop, books, and a disorganized clutter of notes and old worksheets. Some were crumpled and stained with coffee, but all of them were mostly legible, which was all that mattered. 

Beau’s name, with three of those little ‘pow’ exploding emojis next to it, appeared at the top of his screen. First was a picture, a blurry selfie with half of Beau’s wolfish grin in the frame, her arm slung over Caleb’s shoulder like she was pulling him into a headlock, their heads nearly knocking together. Caleb looked either mid- laugh or protest, maybe both, his eyes a bit glassy and face flushed enough for Fjord to know he was well into his cups without the context of Jester’s infamous Chrismukkah party – ugly sweaters mandatory – in the background and the red solo cup in his hand. 

Underneath it, the brief text: _“fuck prof Daleth u shouldv come”_

He grinned, saving the picture. It was adorable. _Caleb_ was adorable. But mostly it was Caleb’s sweater, black wool with red cursive reading “this is my slutty Christmas sweater” across his chest – Beau’s thrift find that Caleb was not about to deny her – that earned its spot on his camera roll. 

He swallowed the last dregs of lukewarm coffee in his mug and typed out a reply. “ _I've got a boyfriend, no thanks. I hope you’re taking care of him btw”_

She was quick to respond. “ _Of fuckign course,”_ came the first, and then again, _“how much would he rly dock u if u submitted it tomrrow”_

She was persistent, he would give her that. Fjord sighed, about to toss his phone aside before he saw another text banner cross his screen. Beau again. _“almost done tho? can u come after??”_

He looked back up the chain of texts to the picture. Caleb’s eyes crinkled in delight, Beau’s grin, blurred moving bodies in the background – Bryce and Caduceus he could make out, others he couldn’t – and an excessive amount of Christmas lights and decorations. Admittedly, it made something uncomfortable turn over in his gut, not being there. But there would be other holiday parties. He would even see most of his friends tomorrow for their regular Saturday brunch, hangovers allowing. But he only had one final paper for Early Modern History, and it happened to be due at midnight, and it happened to be worth a third of his final grade.

He typed a quick reply. _“He was pretty clear about not taking late work. Finishing edits now, but think I’ll just crash. Last 30 mins of chrismukkah are always ugly anyway”_

He really didn’t need to roll up to Jester’s, entirely too sober and exhausted, after half the crowd had already left to round out the night at the bars and the rest were either being pushed into Ubers or still throwing up in the bathrooms or the bushes. But no one ever died at chrismukkah. Not even Molly. Jester and Caduceus were always sober enough and kind enough to make sure of that (though if you passed out, you lost all guarantees that you wouldn’t wake up to something inappropriate sharpied on your face). 

Beau’s reply was succinct. _“boo you whore,”_ with the Mean Girls gif. 

Then another. _“roll thru roll thru”_

And another. _“Jes is blasting Mariah Carey all I want for christmas I knoww u go hard to that shit”_

Fjord got up to start a new pot of coffee, snorting down at his phone. _“Tempting but still no”_

_“oh no come quick ur bf is grinding on a super hot guy”_

Now, that was just a bit much. He rolled his eyes at his screen, a bitter tilt to his mouth. “ _You’re a bad friend, no Caleb is not”_

_“fine. hes not. but he could be. if u wer here”_

“ _Still no,”_ Fjord replied.

_“OK but warning u, Caleb is kinda drunk and horny as hell no lie”_

He put his phone aside, screen down after that. He trusted Caleb and mostly knew everyone on Jester’s invite list, and everything else could be sorted out later. Also Beau was kind of starting to be a dick, an unfortunate side-effect of her drinking. As if he would _seriously_ rather be writing a term paper than be at Jester’s. 

He poured himself a new mug of coffee, plugged his laptop charger in, hit play on his spotify queue, and sat back down to crank out the last revisions in relative peace, ignoring the infrequent buzzing from his phone.

By 11:15, he’d finished writing the damn thing, coming in blessedly just shy of the word limit. By around 11:30, he had finished one last begrudging skim for typos and grammar. He submitted at 11:34, the blinking green number confirming it was received on time. And at 11:36 PM exactly, before he could even take a breath of relief, there was a loud, belligerent banging at the door of his and Molly’s apartment. It made him startle enough to spill coffee across his notes.

Swearing, he lunged for a napkin, dabbing at the spill. “Molly, you have a fucking key!” he hollered from across the kitchen and entryway, sighing at the prospect of having to deal with another blacked-out Molly and, worse, whoever he brought back with him. 

It was not, however, his apartment-mate’s voice that yelled back through the door. “Think again motherfucker!”

“Beau?” Fjord rose from his seat, padding barefoot across the kitchen tiles. “Jesus Christ, I don’t need a noise complaint.” That didn’t stop her from nearly banging the door down, right up until he opened the damn thing.

“Hey bitch,” his best friend greeted him, a shit-eating grin plastered across her face, wearing a christmas sweater three times her size printed with the text “Jolly as Fuck” in bold sparkly letters. “You get my last text?”

“Hey Beau,” he sighed, resigned, but not unhappy. He did what he could to conceal the small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You wanna come in? Or just stand out here banging ‘till the cops get called.”

“Nah man, Jessie’s waitin’ on me,” she said, stumbling forward a little with her arms out, the sleeves of her oversized sweater flapping, crashing into his chest and pulling him into a tight hug. 

“ _Oof,_ hey, okay. You okay?” he asked, laughing at her lack of coordination but hugging her back.

“I’m, like, super. Yup,” she confirmed, finding her balance again and pulling back enough to give him two thumbs up. “I’m jus’ here ta deliver this.”

That’s when Fjord noticed Caleb for the first time, quietly off to the side, leaning against the cracked wallpaper in the hallway behind Beau. His head was tilted back against the wall, his hair falling loose, a warm flush and content smile on his face. He looked pleasantly drunk, but his eyes were bright and alert when they landed on Fjord. 

“Hallo,” Caleb greeted quietly, his voice thick with drink, low and a little raspy. A slow grin, entirely too reminiscent of the cat that got the canary, spread across his face. And the way he was looking at Fjord, _oh_. Beau may have been a little right in that last text he’d read.

“Hey,” Fjord said softly, smiling back. He braced a shoulder against the open doorway. “You stayin’ here tonight?”

Caleb hummed, lifting the half full bottle he had in one hand (Fjord was just now noticing that too, wincing at the label, peppermint schnapps) and swigging from it straight. _Oh_ Christ, it tasted foul just watching it. And in the other hand, a bottle of Hershey’s chocolate syrup, both of which he must have liberated from Jester’s. Fjord couldn’t help but laugh.

“May I?” Caleb asked, motioning through the door to the apartment with the bottle.

With Beau holding the door open, Fjord closed the short distance between them and carefully pulled the bottle from Caleb’s hand, wrinkling his nose in distaste. “Peppermint patty shots? Again?” he asked, chuckling as Caleb pushed off the wall, careening slightly as all but fell into Fjord, wrapping both arms around Fjord’s waist and burying his face in Fjord’s shoulder with a heavy sigh. “Yeah, ‘course you can stay. Come on.”

Walking backward, he guided Caleb forward through the threshold, still clinging onto him, alcohol and sharp peppermint on his breath. But now Caleb was humming that content little note, a familiar one, nuzzling into the side of Fjord’s neck, dragging small kisses across his collar.

Beau made an exaggerated gagging noise, backpedalling into the wall. “Gross,” she complained, covering her eyes.

Fjord rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the stupid smile. “Jester driving you? You want some coffee for the road? Got a fresh pot on.”

“Yes, and… hm, yes,” Beau decided, and without further prompting darted through his door, letting it slam behind them. She went right to the coffeemaker, fresh pot still on, making a big show of digging around his cabinets for a disposable cup to steal and ignoring Caleb and Fjord, still carefully backing them toward the couch. 

“Lemme take that also,” Fjord cajolled, distracting Caleb with a proper kiss as he eased the chocolate syrup from his other hand.

“Need that for later,” Caleb murmured against his lips, but he let it go. 

“What?” Fjord asked, thinking he’d misheard.

“Nothin’,” Caleb giggled, really no other word for it, digging his fingers into Fjord’s hoodie and tugging him down to the couch, still mouthing at his neck. 

“Woah, okay,” Fjord tried to slow him down, but Caleb’s fingers were already crawling up under the hem of his sweatshirt, pushing it up his chest like he wanted it off. “Hold on, sit tight just a minute,” he hushed as he got his boyfriend lowered to the couch, then stood back up to his feet.

“ _No_ ,” Caleb whined, sitting back up, pouting as Fjord pulled away. “Nein. Come back.” 

“Don’t be like that, baby. I said just a minute,” Fjord reassured, still grinning like an idiot as he leaned down to gentle the petulant pout away with a soft kiss, much to Caleb’s approval, though Fjord pulled away again before he could get his hand in Fjord’s hair properly. 

Leaving Caleb grumbling on the couch, Fjord stepped back into the kitchen, finding Beau with a glass of water in one hand and a steaming cup of coffee in the other. She held the water out to Fjord. “That’s for him.”

“Thanks,” Fjord offered as he took it. “Fun night?”

She nodded, sipping her coffee gingerly. “Yup.”

“You get sick?”

She shrugged, grinning sluggishly. “Ya know what they say. Vomit and rally.”

“ _Beau._ ”

“I’m good, I’m good, I swear,” she insisted, holding up a hand as if to fend him off. “Queen of the rally, right here.”

Fjord sighed. “Did he get sick?”

She shook her head. “Nope. Not on my watch, no casualties to report, Captain,” she joked with a mocking salute. 

“Any sign of Molly?” he asked, wondering if by chance he might actually see his apartment mate tonight.

Beau snorted, teetering a little into the cabinet. “I don’t think you’ll be seeing him.” She winked, as obviously as possible. “If ya know what I mean.”

Fjord rolled his eyes. “You’re a fucking terrible friend.”

“I’m a fucking fantastic friend, excuse me?” she insisted, voice raising an octave in indignation. “I like, hand delivered you a boy that _desperately_ needs to get laid. I'm like, DoorDash, or fucking Postmates, but like, _better_. And I’ve got a video of him sitting on Yasha’s shoulders pouring everyone peppermint patties with Mariah Carey on. Man, you missed out Fjord. You want me to send you that?”

Fjord winced, shaking his head. “Okay, I’m gonna ignore the first comment and why you might think that. And those are gross. I don’t know why you all do it. But yeah, send it.”

Beau scowled. “You don’t fuck with tradition, Fjord.”

“Do you have to pour them right into people’s mouths? What's wrong with glasses?”

“Hey, Jester’s house rules, not mine. Speaking of –” Beau indicated vaguely toward the door with her coffee cup. “She’s –”

“Waiting, right,” Fjord remembered, walking with her to the door. “ _Now_ who _desperately_ needs to get laid tonight,” he teased, poking her ribs.

“Me,” Caleb shouted from across the living room, apparently still listening, though all Fjord could see from behind the couch was one leg tossed over the armrest. 

Fjord choked on his own breath and Beau nearly doubled over cackling, sloshing coffee onto the tiles. “ _Ha_ ,” she barked at Fjord’s face, his expression twisted uncomfortably, at a loss for words. She backed out the door, into the hallway. “Okay, well that’s it for me then. You crazy kids have a good night. Merry fucking Christmas an’ Hanukkah an’ all that.”

Another salute and Beau was off down the hallway, mostly walking a straight line, only reaching out for the wall a couple times. 

Fjord sighed, locking the door behind him. He only had a moment’s breather though. 

“Fjord,” Caleb called from the couch, sitting upright now, his sweater and undershirt already on the floor. “ _Kätzchen,_ I need you.”

“Jesus Christ, Cay,” Fjord laughed, breathless. He made his way back to the tiny living room space. “What the hell’s gotten into you?”

A devious, infinitely pleased grin curled across Caleb’s lips as he looked up at Fjord through his eyelashes. “I can tell you, what I would _like_ to be in me.”

“Oh my god.” Fjord just shook his head, mortified, and put the water down on the coffee table. “How much have you had to drink?”

Caleb climbed up to his feet. Fjord reached out a hand to steady him. “A bit,” he said, shrugging as he undressed Fjord with his eyes. 

“Just a bit?” Fjord asked, dubious. He wrapped an arm around Caleb’s narrow hips, pulling him flush against him to keep him steady. He pressed a kiss to Caleb’s cheek, holding him close. 

“And, whatever Caduceus was smoking.”

That pulled a surprised bark of laughter from Fjord’s chest. “Well shit, Cay. That’ll do it, now won’t it.”

“Mhm,” Caleb hummed, teeth scraping over Fjord’s pulse. “And I feel wonderful. _Wunderbar._ Wonderful,” he murmured against Fjord's throat, his breath soft and damp and too tempting.

“Yeah, I’ll bet you do,” Fjord chuckled, dragging his nails down Caleb’s spine, delighting in the full body shiver it elicited as Caleb curled into his chest even closer. 

He was aware of the knee that Caleb let wander between his own, Caleb’s hips canting forward just slightly for a little bit of clumsy friction that Fjord was happy to give. Then Caleb’s lips were dragging up his throat, whispering low in Fjord’s ear, “Did you finish your paper?”

Fjord’s hands found Caleb’s waist, his thumb dragging lightly over the crest of his hip bone, his other hand dropping down to grope shamelessly at his ass, tugging him just that much closer. “I did,” he murmured against Caleb’s lips, dipping down to kiss him. 

Caleb grinned against his lips. “ _Gut.”_ He ceded eagerly, easily under the first swipe of Fjord’s tongue across his bottom lip, sighing happily into the kiss when Fjord deepened it, and whining even louder when Fjord pulled away. 

Caleb was panting, a pretty flush working its way down his throat to color his chest, consternation shining in his eyes as he chewed his bottom lip. “What?”

“Water,” Fjord said, nodding toward the glass on the table. “All of it.”

Caleb rolled his eyes with a scoff, pushing away from Fjord’s chest and walking while only teetering a little toward the coffee table, lifting the glass and taking a begrudging sip. He looked at Fjord, all puppy eyes, rim of the glass still pressed to his lip. Fjord crossed his arms, waiting. With a scowl, Caleb tilted his head back and, in quick work, drained it. 

“You’re gonna make yourself sick,” Fjord sighed as Caleb set the glass back down on the table with the sharp clink of glass. 

Caleb ignored the comment, stepping back into Fjord’s arms and nuzzling in close. “Happy now?” he breathed, one of is hands travelling under Fjord’s sweatshirt again, up his abdomen, greedily pawing at all the skin he could get his hands on. 

Fjord shook his head, grinning like an idiot. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Oh,” Caleb cooed against his ear, tongue flicking out to taste heated skin where Fjord's pulse hammered against his throat. “Good word.”

Fjord groaned, in surprise and pleasure as Caleb pressed his knee forward again, Fjord’s dick increasingly interested as Caleb rocked his hips forward. His hands went to Caleb’s waist, stilling him a moment. “Cay,” he whispered, their foreheads pressed together, noses brushing. “You sure you’re okay for this?”

“I want to,” Caleb returned, pushing up on his toes to nip at Fjord’s lip. “I think I’m okay… if you don’t think so, we don’t have to,” he compromised, though didn’t sound happy about the prospect. He looked up to meet Fjord’s eyes, searching his expression for something. 

“I trust you, baby,” Fjord reassured, chuckling at how Caleb squirmed against him, his face burning red, nose scrunched up all adorably at the endearment – one of the ones in Fjord’s arsenal he rarely used, and hell, maybe it was the holidays, but he felt like pulling it out tonight. Fjord pressed a kiss to his forehead. 

“You want to, though?” Caleb asked, eyes still searching for something, for permission, that he hadn’t found yet. “Only want to if you want to.”

Fjord chuckled, muffling the sound against Caleb’s throat as he nipped a kiss there. “Yeah, I want to.”

Caleb hummed an exceptionally pleased note, pushing his thigh forward between Fjord’s legs with renewed interest. He tilted his head back to give Fjord better access, fingers curling in Fjord’s hair as he worked at his throat. 

“Good,” Caleb gasped as Fjord snaked an arm around his waist again, holding him still as he rolled his own hips forward. Caleb’s fingers tugged at Fjord’s hair, nipping at his jaw before he leaned in to purr low in Fjord’s ear, “ _Now on your knees._ ”

Fjord startled, leaning back to give Caleb as incredulous a look as he could muster. “Beg your pardon?” he laughed, because it wasn’t that he was opposed, but they were also standing in the middle of his living room, and he had a roommate, and Caleb had never been so… _forward_.

Caleb laughed, pushing away from Fjord and stumbling, catching himself on the table where Fjord had set aside the liquor he’d walking in with. He snatched up both the schnapps and the chocolate, giving Fjord a wicked grin as he hefted both with either hand, a delighted look in his too-bright eyes. “Tradition, Fjord. You are not excused from tradition.”

“Fuckin’ hell.” 

But who was he to argue with tradition. Or Caleb, for that matter. He took a knee on the tiles. 

Caleb stepped up close, brushed his fingers through Fjord’s hair with a little tug and a smirk that was never more pleased. The chocolate syrup hitting his tongue first at least eased the way for the liquor, but the sharp shock of it through his sinuses was still difficult to shake. 

The first time Jester had convinced him to do this, freshman year, he’d gagged, nearly wretched. This time, with added experience, it went down a little smoother.

Caleb giggled at the face he made, setting the bottle of liquor on the table, but holding onto the syrup. He carefully swept away some stray chocolate from Fjord’s chin, popping his thumb between his own lips and licking it clean. Too explicit to be merely suggestive.

Fjord stood, grabbed Caleb’s hips and tugged him flush against him, kissing him hard. Caleb’s surprise was muffled against his lips, but he was quickly chasing after the taste of peppermint and chocolate on Fjord’s tongue. 

“Bedroom,” Fjord growled, walking Caleb backward, keeping him from stumbling with the arm around him waist and a hand grabbing at his ass. He really couldn’t help himself. It was a great ass.

Caleb nodded eagerly, not even through Fjord’s bedroom door before he was already pulling at the bottom of Fjord’s sweatshirt again, his fumbling not so helpful in tugging it and the t-shirt beneath it off, but Fjord managed it, and it was adorable nonetheless. He discarded both articles of clothing somewhere in the hallway, so at least Molly wouldn't bother them if he did make it back. Shouldering through the door, Fjord turned Caleb to press him against the wall, biting back a moan as Caleb’s clever fingers were already working at the button of his jeans, ghosting over the hardening length of him trapped between the fabric and his thigh. 

“Caleb, _fuck_ ,” he breathed as Caleb fumbled to get his zipper down, groaning in relief at the lessening pressure against his groin. Then Caleb’s hand was gone and it was just messy friction. Caleb’s hips stuttering against his. Groaning, panting in his ear, warm breath in bursts against his throat as lips and tongue and teeth burned a trail from Fjord’s collar up to his mouth. 

“Bed,” Caleb gasped, “bed,” and then Fjord was groping blindly at the backs of Caleb’s thighs and lifting. Caleb wrapped his legs around Fjord’s waist obediently, both his arms looping around Fjord’s neck. 

He only stumbled a little, cursing as his knee hit the bed frame sharply, but he was otherwise able to lower Caleb gently to the mattress without incident. “Hey, c’mon, you’ve gotta let me go if you want help with your pants,” Fjord laughed as Caleb tugged him down to the bed with him, arms still looped around his neck and shoulders. 

Caleb grumbled a complaint, stealing one more off-center kiss before relenting, releasing Fjord and flopping back against the sheets. Fjord crawled back toward the bottom of the bed, working at Caleb’s shoelaces. “You gonna tell me why you’ve still got that?” he asked as he tugged off one shoe, then the other, nodding his head toward the bottle of chocolate syrup Caleb had dropped on the edge of the bed. 

Caleb just grinned, letting his eyes fall closed. “Because I want it,” he said, licking his lips, but his grin faltered, brow furrowing and lips parting as his breath caught in a silent moan when Fjord crawled back up, hovering close, and pressed a featherlight kiss just below his navel, tongue flicking suggestively against his skin. 

“Not gonna tell me?” he teased, his fingers skimming across the waistband of Caleb’s jeans, fingers dipping underneath, but not far enough. “Okay.” His fingers hooking through Caleb’s belt loops, Fjord held Caleb’s hips down and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the outline of his dick through the thin denim, laving his tongue over his erection mercilessly. 

Caleb’s breath seized, crying out as his hips jerked uselessly against Fjord’s hold, almost kneeing Fjord in the ribs as he flailed. “Fuck _fuck fuck_ , _Fjord,_ ” he choked, fingers curling into the sheets with a white knuckle grip. "Please," he gasped, " _bitte, Fjord_.” He liked that, the way his name sounded, all desperate like that.

“Please what, love?” he asked, the picture of innocence. “Want me to help get you outta these?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Caleb sobbed, legs squirming under the weight of Fjord’s chest. “Please.”

“Well, since you asked so pretty,” he chuckled, pushing himself up onto his elbows. He made quick work of the button and zipper, not really interested in teasing Caleb any more than he’d already done, seeing as he was already so vocal in asking for what he wanted. As Fjord tugged his jeans down, the relief on Caleb’s face was palpable. Getting them down his thighs and off was a different matter. “Don’t know how you wear jeans this tight,” he grumbled, struggling. And Caleb, the princess, was doing very little to help. 

Caleb wound his fingers into Fjord’s hair, stroking down his cheek softly. “I thought you liked them,” he pointed out sagely. "Something about my ass."

Fjord huffed, rolling his eyes. “I do,” he agreed, catching Caleb's hand and pressing his lips to the inside of his wrist. “Think I’d like your ass more right now with these on the floor though.

He did manage to free Caleb of his pants after a moment more of trying, leaving him lying flushed and damn near giggling, spread out on Fjord’s bed in nothing but his boxers. Beautiful. He didn’t know what more he could want, really.

Fjord got up to shuck his own pants, a much easier endeavour, Caleb’s eyes on him gleaming in the low light. He crawled on his knees back to Caleb, straddling his hips. Brushing his hands up Caleb’s sides, Fjord’s fingertips dragged lightly over soft, pale skin, making Caleb twitch. 

“Hey,” Fjord called gently, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to Caleb’s lower lip. “Still good?”

Caleb was nearly purring, his eyes drifting closed, an arm wrapping around Fjord’s shoulders. He nodded agreeably. “Very,” he murmured against Fjord’s mouth. “Danke.”

“Good.” Fjord spent the next few moments chasing after lazy kisses, the heat, the urgency, all of it fading to a honey golden glow that settled over bare skin, just as sweet and slow as the real thing. Fjord rocked his hips forward, gently, slowly. Letting his erection drag heavily against Caleb’s, only thin cotton between them, revelling in the quiet gasps and groans that fell from his lips. 

“What do you want, baby?” Fjord asked against the shell of Caleb’s ear, nearly shaking apart as Caleb’s hips hitched against his, at every quiet hum and sigh that fell from Caleb's lips. “Want me to take care of you? Or did you want something else?”

Caleb was quiet for a moment, panting shakily as he collected himself, but he reached down, stilling the lazy rocking of Fjord’s hips. “Want you on your back,” he rasped, his voice low, pupils blown wide. 

His heart doing its damnedest to hammer its way out of his chest, Fjord laughed, dizzy with want and painfully hard. “Sure thing,” he murmured, stealing one last kiss before flopping over onto his side, freeing Caleb to clamber out from under him and up onto his knees. He straddled him, so that their positions were reversed. 

Caleb braced a hand against Fjord’s chest, pushing him down flat against the mattress. He dragged his fingers down slowly, purposefully, down to the waistband of Fjord’s boxers where he hesitated, looking to Fjord for permission. Fjord nodded, the breath caught in his chest keeping him from replying even if he wanted to. 

Caleb shoved Fjord’s underwear down, letting Fjord kick them off the rest of the way, humming contentedly as his cock sprang free, fully hard and already leaking. 

“Beautiful,” Caleb purred, taking Fjord’s dick with one hand, his grip warm and soft and fucking perfect, though just about any amount of friction would've been right then. Just as slowly, just as purposefully, he dragged his thumb up the thick vein running the underside, rubbing small circles just beneath the head, making Fjord’s breath hitch. 

“Cay,” he groaned, “Caleb, I –” Fjord couldn’t finish the sentence, didn’t even know what he was going to say, _need_ and _want_ crashing through him in equal parts, robbing him of his breath and higher faculties. Eyes closed, he tipped his head back, trying not to move too much under Caleb’s hand, trying to –

He jerked in surprise at the first heavy drip of – _something_ – across his collar bone, lifting his head and blinking through the dark up at Caleb. Caleb, who was grinning above him, ever so pleased with himself, drizzling chocolate syrup generously down Fjord’s chest, from the hollow of his throat to his navel. 

“Caleb?” he choked, his voice breaking as Caleb tightened his grip around his cock, still toying with him. 

“Hm?” Caleb just raised an eyebrow, shuffling forward and leaning down to lick a stripe across Fjord’s collarbone clean, looking up at Fjord through his lashes all the while. It was… Caleb rolled the taste of it around his mouth, his tongue flashing over his lips, the smile he flashed Fjord blinding. He scooped some of it off Fjord’s sternum with a finger, popping it into his mouth and sucking. It was fucking obscene. 

“Oh, fuck,” Fjord groaned, his head dropping back down, staring up at the ceiling fan. He took carefully measured breaths, _get a grip get a grip get a grip_. “Oh fuck, okay. Sure. Sure.” 

Caleb didn’t say a word. To be fair, his mouth was a bit preoccupied, licking, sucking, biting at Fjord’s throat, at his collar, worrying away at sensitive skin, at every place he knew made Fjord squirm and moan under his mouth and hands. He took his damn sweet time too, working down the length of Fjord’s chest. Took longer still over his abdomen, over the crest of his hips, Caleb’s personal favorites, messy and absolutely ridiculous as he lapped up sticky-sweet syrup, and it was driving Fjord crazy. It didn’t help that Caleb was stroking him off, slow and sweet and _never quite enough_ the whole time. For forever. For fifteen minutes? Twenty? He didn’t know. Lost track. But even syrup gone, Caleb showed no sign of stopping, and Fjord’s willpower was wearing thin. 

“Caleb, I can’t,” he pleaded as his boyfriend sucked bruise after bruise into his hip. The small kitten licks soothing the dark splotches after were about to make him lose the last of his resolve. His hands were shaking, buried in the sheets at his sides, sweat dampening his hairline. He couldn’t even bear to watch anymore. It was too much. “Caleb, _please_ , you’re killing me, I can't– _ohfuck_ –”

Caleb didn’t even wait for him to finish pleading before he wet his lips and drew Fjord’s cock into his mouth, the damp and searing heat making Fjord see stars behind his eyes. Caleb took him in all the way to the back of his mouth and held him there, tongue laving gently as Fjord gasped and shook at the change of pace. And he _groaned_ around him, filthy and obscene, when Fjord buried his fingers in Caleb’s hair, taking everything he had to still his own hips, to not just sheath himself in Caleb’s willing throat. 

Caleb’s tongue worked at the underside of his cock, playing over his slit as he bobbed his head back, hollowing his cheeks, and sank back down even further. He repeated, working up more saliva to take Fjord deeper, until he felt the head of his dick bumping up against the back of Caleb’s throat.

It was… entrancing, watching Caleb focus on his task, eyes closed, with a one-minded intensity. It wasn’t unfamiliar, but it was one of these rare moments that Fjord was the sole object of that focus. The hand around the base of his dick jacked him slowly as Caleb bobbed his head deeper, gentle suction and the roll of his tongue keeping Fjord on edge each time he withdrew with a wet noise that made Fjord force himself to look away to keep it under control. It quickly became too much. Caleb was too much, too fucking good to him, and in his state, didn’t have the mind to slow down and save Fjord the embarrassment, and save himself the disappointment. Fjord tightened his grip in Caleb’s hair, tugging him back up, and Caleb, slack jawed and boneless under his hands, his chin a mess of saliva and pre-come, let him, bless him, gasping for air when he came up. 

“Honey I can’t do this much more, not after that, you know I can’t,” Fjord breathed, wiping Caleb’s face clean on a corner of the sheets and gentling the heated, hungry look in his eyes with murmured, meaningless platitudes as he coaxed Caleb to come back up the bed. 

Caleb did, leaving his work to burrow into a soft spot at Fjord’s side. He flopped down heavily against him with an exhale, his eyes hooded and tired, grin sluggish but immensely satisfied. His mouth was red and damp and _used_ – too much, _too much_. 

Fjord rolled onto his side, pushing the hair out of Caleb’s face, the pad of his thumb stroking gently over his cheekbone. “You still okay, baby?” he murmured, pressing a light kiss to the corner of Caleb's mouth.

Caleb nodded his head, swallowing to find his voice. “Yes,” he rasped, his voice raw and fucked out. “I want you to fuck me, _scheisse_.”

Fjord huffed, in amusement, in disbelief, pressing a kiss to Caleb’s jaw. “Think I can manage that. Be right back.”

Caleb whined in protest when Fjord sat up and scooted away to the edge of the bed, just far enough to reach the lube and condoms in the bedside table. Caleb rolled onto his back, wiggling his way out of his boxers and tossing them to the floor, but didn’t do anything beyond that. That was Fjord’s job. 

Fjord tapped his hip, making Caleb open his eyes and pay attention, however much attention he had left to give. “On your belly now. I’m not gonna do _everything_ by myself.” Caleb groaned, but complied. Rolling over onto his front, he wrapped his arms around one of Fjord’s pillows and buried his face in it. 

Chuckling, Fjord grabbed the other pillow and shoved it under Caleb’s hips, lifting his ass to give himself a slightly better angle. A knee between Caleb's thighs, he nudged his legs apart a bit wider, making room for him to sit back on his heels behind him. Fjord smoothed his hands up the outsides of Caleb’s thighs, squeezing playfully at his ass before brushing his thumb over the rim of Caleb’s hole, chuckling at his surprised startle, and the discontented grumble it earned him.

He had half a mind to eat Caleb out, to keep him on edge just as long as he’d done to Fjord with that silly chocolate nonsense. Half a mind to make him writhe and squirm under him with no release until he begged for it. But Caleb had been pretty clear about what he wanted.

Still, he couldn’t help but lean down to lick a stripe over Caleb’s fluttering rim, his fingers tightening around Caleb’s hips hard just at the _sound_ he made, muffled by the pillow, low and unrepentantly wanton. 

“Easy,” Fjord gentled, already drizzling lubricant over his fingers, warming it in his hand before dragging the pads of his fingers heavy over Caleb’s rim, leaving a trail of slick over his skin. He spent only as long as he needed massaging a slow circle around Caleb’s entrance before pressing one finger into silky wet heat with little resistance.

Fjord groaned, biting the inside of his cheek to help keep hold of himself. “Fuck, Cay, doing so good for me.” 

More lube, a few more moments of careful massaging, and Caleb was putty in his hands, a whimpering mess as Fjord slid two fingers into him, carefully scissoring and twisting to open him up for him. Caleb gasped as Fjord curled his fingers, searching for that sweet spot, breathing hard and moaning something unintelligible into the pillow. “Fjord, Fjord, _bitte_ ,” he gasped, his hips a confused stutter as he rocked back onto Fjord’s fingers, rocked forward in a desperate bid for friction, his neglected cock trapped between his abdomen and the pillow beneath him. 

“Not yet,” Fjord murmured, biting a kiss into Caleb’s hip. But he took mercy enough to sink a third finger past Caleb’s rim, red and fluttering, easing them in slowly. “Don’t want to hurt you.”

Caleb groaned in despair, his spine rolling loosely as he rocked back, fucking himself on Fjord's fingers, but still not enough. He pushed himself up onto his elbows, glaring back at Fjord. But before he got a word out, Fjord sent him a vicious smirk, swiping over Caleb’s prostate once in warning then pressing down hard. Caleb eyes rolled back, words dying in his throat with a whimper as he collapsed back down to the pillow, whole body shaking and spasming with a choked off moan.

Fjord didn’t have the heart to tease him though, nor the patience. His own cock was hanging heavy against his thigh, aching with the memory of Caleb’s lips wrapped around it, warm and tight and too perfect. He wrapped a hand around himself, pumping once, twice, just enough to take the edge off. 

Caleb perked up at the sound of the condom wrapper tearing, still shaking as Fjord pumped three fingers in and out of him, too slow for what he wanted. Pulling his fingers away, Fjord wiped them off on the sheets – he needed to wash them anyway – and rolled the condom on, tugging at Caleb’s hips to lift him just a bit more. Caleb pressed his ass back against Fjord’s hips, sighing low and pleased as Fjord cursed, breathless. 

He pushed Caleb’s chest back down to the mattress in a wordless warning, forcing him still before pouring a generous amount of lube out in his hand and spreading it liberally over his dick with a few strokes. 

“Fjord,” Caleb groaned, fingers clutching at the sheets, his eyes fluttering closed. “Fjord, need you, _please_ ,” he gasped, shaking as Fjord rubbed the head of his dick over the used stretch of his hole.

“I’ve got you,” Fjord murmured, a soothing hand rubbing up Caleb’s spine. “I’ve got you,” he promised, easy, too easy as he fucked forward ever so slowly, watching his cock sink into Caleb inch by delirious inch. It punched a low, shameless moan from Caleb, jumbled pleas and phrases in a language he didn’t understand.

“Easy, easy,” Fjord hushed. He had to close his eyes. Had to concentrate on not losing himself to the impossibly tight heat as Caleb enveloped him, pushing back against him with each fuck forward deeper than the last. He was delirious with it. Lust drunk. The world narrowed to the precious few inches of space between them, only getting narrower as Fjord leaned in, his weight on one elbow, the other arm wrapped around Caleb’s waist to pull him closer as he pressed him into the mattress with each thrust.

Caleb was a mess beneath him, panting and trembling in his hands, clenching so perfectly around him. “Fjord, _Fjord_ ,” he gasped, unable to complete the thought, crying out as Fjord pulled his hips up flush against him, a better angle, better leverage making him glance against his prostate with every slow drag and thrust.

“I know,” Fjord grunted, sliding his fingers into Caleb’s damp hair at the base of his skull and _tugging_. Making Caleb’s spine arch gorgeously, pulling another low moan from his lips and bearing more of his throat for Fjord to claim. And Caleb’s expression, _Christ_ , slack jawed and delirious with pleasure, perfectly blissed out. 

“ _Fjord_ ,” Caleb groaned, his name extended on an exhale, barely audible. “Touch me, please, _fuck_ touch me, _Fjord_ ,” Caleb cried, and _fuck fuck_ it made Fjord’s hips stutter, made the molten coil pulled taught through his core nearly snap. 

He gasped, fumbling, wrapping a still slick hand around Caleb’s cock, angry red and dribbling pre-come against the sheets. Fjord stroked him quick and just a touch mean, once, twice, growling low in Caleb’s ear, “Cum for me, baby,” and Caleb was gone. With a choked off shout he came across Fjord’s fingers and the sheets, dropping boneless against the mattress, trembling as Fjord fucked him slowly through the aftershocks. 

Caleb’s walls clenching around him so perfectly, low fucked out moans playing in his ears, Caleb’s orgasm nudged Fjord over that edge he’d been chasing. His own release rushed through him with about as much force as a car crash, barely managing to fall down to the mattress on his side to keep his wight off Caleb, the arm around his waist tugging him with him.

Slowly regathering himself, Fjord nuzzled into the back of Caleb’s neck, pulling him closer against his chest, an arm draped over his middle. His partner, lax and utterly sated, sighed a quiet breath of relief. Content. 

There was a long moment before either of them stirred. But eventually, with some help, Caleb turned over where he lay, tucking himself against Fjord’s shoulder. They would have to get up eventually. Would have to clean up. But not right then. Not now.

“Fjord,” he whispered, breathless, eyes fluttering open as Fjord gently pushed damp strands of hair sticking at his temple away from his face. 

Fjord hummed a note of acknowledgement, unable to pull together much more energy than that.

“I kind of..." he trailed off, glassy eyed and still rather drunk, Fjord reminded himself. "Kind of like that. When you call me that,” he admitted, so quiet, panting between words still. 

Fjord chuckled, low and warm, the sound of it barely leaving his chest. “Yeah?”

“Not, ah, not around anyone. Just, ah,” he mumbled, brow pinched adorably as he chased the right words, “just you.”

Fjord hummed in consideration, shifting impossibly closer to press a soft kiss to Caleb’s forehead, his knuckles brushing gently over his cheek. He sighed, long and low, a stupid smile tugging at his lips. “Merry Christmas, baby,” he murmured into Caleb’s hair. “Love you.”

Caleb snuggled closer, inhaling deeply, exhaling. “I love you too, _Kätzchen_ ,” he whispered, like a secret, smiling against Fjord’s collar.

“You know,” Fjord began after a moment mulling it over, “finally got around to looking that one up.”

“Oh?” Caleb asked, amused, unconcerned. 

“Yeah. I’m okay with it,” he said, stupid grin tugging at his mouth. “Long as nobody else looks up what it means.”

Caleb chuckled, brushing his hand over Fjord’s cheek. “Well _I_ won’t tell them, Kitten.”

Fjord huffed, but fell silent, just shaking his head. 

Maybe that one could be their little secret too. 

**Author's Note:**

> You can hit me up on twitter @wytchlyghts


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